101 Ways to Bother Voldemort
by lazyiguana
Summary: Slytherin prankster Lily Ranunculus is in trouble. She's been recruited by Voldemort. What to do? Prank him, of course!
1. Prologue

**Hey guys. I'm new here, so I'm just figuring out all this stuff. Please forgive me if I forget something or miss the obvious. Thanks. :)**

**Disclaimer: Except for Lily R., I do not own any of the HP characters, places, etc. I merely play with them and mess with their lives and sanity. The list is also sadly not mine. A friend found it online and emailed it to a friend who emailed it to a friend who sent it to me.**

**Rated barely T because of mentioned not-so-graphic violence and because I can't write romance. At all.**

I cocked my head and listened to the battle going on just outside the Great Hall. Oh, good. The screams and bangs were winding down. At last. A Gryffindor would be out there, casting spells at those idiot Death Eaters. No doubt that stuck-up Potter and his friends were. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs probably would be, too. Quite a few of my House's people, the Slytherins, would be duking it out as well, but on the other side. But me? Nah, this wasn't my fight. I wasn't on anybody's side but my own. Harsh, yes, but I saw no point in taking sides in something I had no part in. Besides, Hogwarts was going to win anyway, with or without my help.

I finished the final tweak on my special project. I chuckled to myself. _This is gonna be so awesome._

I grabbed my wand and any evidence that I was there, and scrambled behind my House's big banner.

I cackled silently to myself as I imagined the look on ol' Dumbly's face when my prank would _literally_ explode in his face. I checked my wristwatch, one of the only awesome things Muggles came up with, right behind explosives and pranking. And pizza, of course. I loved pizza. My special time-keeping device was modified from those dull ones people normally use, of course. I flipped through the settings until I came to "Alarm." Instead of a time popping up, there was a list of various objects. I kept looking through those until I came across the one labeled "DumblysSurprise," and waited.

Minutes passed. I was considering stretching my legs when I heard footsteps echoing in the cavernous Hall.

I hovered my finger over the Start/Stop button, listening closely. When I decided the footsteps were in position, or at least close enough, I pressed the button and peeked out to see my carefully-set plans come to life.

Fireworks screamed and whirled around, trailing green and silver sparks. Several emerald-green slinkies with felt forked tongues and googly eyes bounced around on the tables. A giant banner unfurled on the wall right behind the head table, saying "Potter Needs a Potty, Dumbly is Bumbly. Slytherin Rules!" Paintbrushes flew around, painting everything in sight green, especially the Gryffindor table and banner.

I laughed and stepped out from the banner to get a better glimpse of Dumbles. "Beat that, Weasleys!" I crowed to Fred and George Weasley.

I stopped short. The people in front of me were definitely not Dumbledore and his posse. It was obvious, even though their dark robes and masks were all covered in green paint, silver glitter, and snake stickers. The one in front gained my immediate attention, being tall, red-eyed, and lacking a nose.

"Interesting, a Slytherin prankster," Lord Voldemort said in a snake-y voice to a Death Eater, taking in the Great Hall's new decor. "I was under the impression the only Hogwarts troublemakers were the Weasley boys."

Even though I was terrified my pride broke through. "Those Weasleys have nothing on me," I said, straightening indignantly. I quickly hunched back down again when he turned to me. "My Lord," I hastily added.

"Name and blood-status?" he asked one of his cronies next to him.

Squinting a little to see past the paint and the mask, I recognized the other guy as none other than Lucius Malfoy, father of one of the most annoying kids on the planet. (He was the only one that stood like he's got a stick up his rear.) "Oh, hey, Mr. Malfoy," I said. "Fancy seeing you here."

Mr. Malfoy glared at me. "My Lord, this is Lilian Ranunculus. Currently the school's record-holder for most detentions, topped only by all four Marauders combined."

I raised my eyebrows a bit. I knew I got in trouble a lot, but hey, that's the price of fame. And all four Marauders together? Wow. I. Am. Awesome.

Some Death Eater said, "Ranunculus? My son told me about what you did to those seventh years. Brilliant."

Voldemort asked Malfoy, "Daughter of Jackson and Lydia Ranunculus? The one who strung the Ravenclaws up by their toes and toasted marshmallows over a fire of their Muggle Studies books?"

I blinked. The Dark Lord himself knew the details of one of my exploits. It _was_ one of my finest, in my opinion, but still. The _Dark Lord_ knew of my _pranks_. That was really creepy.

I wisely neglected to mention that the Muggle Studies books had been way out of date anyway. I didn't want to have to explain how I knew that.

"Yes, my Lord. Though, my Lord," Malfoy Sr. added hesitantly, "I-I don't think-" He cut off as Voldemort's head swiveled to look at him.

"You don't think what, Lucius?" he asked softly. Dangerously.

I gained some guts and cut off Mr. Malfoy before he could speak. "What _Lucy_ is trying to say is he doesn't like me and would really rather I die here and now." I turned to face Malfoy. "Dude, get over it! That ended two months ago when Draco paid off the bet!"

Malfoy's face went red, almost purple, I noted with interest. He seemed about to say something, but was interrupted again.

"Really? He _paid up_? I've been trying to get that brat to do that for years!" Another Death Eater exclaimed.

"It was really quite easy," I said smugly. "All I had to do was charm a stuffed animal ferret to hover behind him, announcing his arrival to whatever room he entered by saying, 'Bow down to the Amazing Bouncing Ferret!' and then singing Muggle circus music I got off some half-blood. He cracked and paid after almost a week."

Some random Death Eater butted in. "What was the bet and how much did he lose?"

I smirked. "I bet him fifty Galleons I could stuff fifty quills up Pansy Parkinson's left nostril. Then I shrunk the quills. It was too easy." Why I was telling them this stuff, I don't know. Probably so I could keep them entertained long enough for them not to Avada me.

Lord Voldemort had been watching us speak and finally entered the conversation. "Enough." Or not. "Lilian Ranunculus, what do you say to joining my cause?"

Whoa. Did not see that coming.

I thought it over. Join and be given a chance to annoy the heck out of Voldemort or die? It was quite an easy choice. "Sure." But I had to add, "Do I have to go and kill people all the time while looking all scary? 'Cause I'm better at just getting on _everybody's _nerves. Ooh! I could be your backup questioner! I'll bug them 'til they spill!" With that I let out a cackle as I schemed.

He bought it. "Very well." With that he turned and- CRACK- was gone. All the other Death Eaters Disapparated as well, the last one grabbing my arm and whisking me into darkness.

I wonder what Potter would do if he lost his popularity and fandom because of a certain girl causing Voldemort to die of irritation and embarrassment. Hmm.

With that last thought I entered a new stage of my life and a new purpose:

101 Ways to Bother Voldy

Oh yes, and to survive. That was important, too.

**How am I doing? Please review!**


	2. 1-5

**Yeah, so I've been randomly editing and re-editing for no reason at all, so... This version might be slightly different than the one I wrote whenever I was last on here.**

**I thought I had fanfic relatively figured out, but then all the formatting went wonky. sigh.**

**Disclaimer: Lily R. is mine. The rest is sadly not, otherwise I'd be rich with a gigantic library to get lost in.**

1) Ask him why he doesn't have such a cool scar

"Hey, can I ask you something, my Lord?" I asked, interrupting one of Voldemort's plotting sessions (yes, he really has them). "I mean, it's not like it's personal, or private, or secret, or potentially embarrassing, or anything."

He barely looked up. "Ranunculus, unless this is of vital importance, leave now." _Ooh. Someone got up on the wrong side of bed this morning._

"It is, it is!" When I finally got his attention, I said, "So I've been wondering: why don't you have such a cool scar? Oh, maybe you do! It'll be something really cool, like a purple unicorn with fangs! So what is it? Personally, I think your scar's gonna be a jellyfish! You know, those cute little ones that hurt like h-e-double-broomsticks. Or it could be-"

"_Silencio!_" Voldemort yelled, brandishing his wand in annoyance. I worked my mouth soundlessly, trying to finish my sentence. "Ranunculus," he said, glaring at me, "how is this urgent? And yes, I _do_ have a scar. It's on my nose."

I pointed to my throat. He sighed and waved his wand, ending the silencing spell.

I stared at him for a moment. "Um, hate to break it to you, Volders, but you don't have..." I trailed off. Behind Voldemort, a Death Eater was shaking his head no very emphatically and when I shot him a questioning glance, slid his finger across his throat. I swallowed hard. "You know what? I'm going to go stand in that corner for a while."

2) Laugh at him

I stood in the corner for maybe two hours, tuning out the "plotting" (plotting equals Voldie telling the Death Eaters what to do and when to do it). Occasionally I heard a "_Crucio!_" and accompanying screams when the Dark Lord was displeased or didn't get his way.

Eventually, the Death Eaters left, and judging from the rush of footsteps stampeding out, Voldemort was _not_ in a good mood. I was just turning around to ask how much longer I had to examine his ugly wall when I heard the shrill voice of that crazy Bellatrix Lestrange.

"My lord," she said, her voice sickly sweet, "send me to capture Potter. I will not fail. I can-"

I fought the urge to gag and swiveled back to face the corner, scowling as Voldemort replied, obviously irritated. It was _my_ job to annoy him, not that- that _witch_.

Lestrange left in a huff and Voldemort said, "Ranunculus." I looked at him, trembling a little at his smug face. I was so dead.

His creepy smile grew at the sight of my nervousness. "I won't kill you this time," –I started smiling in relief- "but" –I stopped smiling- "Bellatrix gave me an idea." I abandoned all thought of smiling and began frowning ferociously. "You will stay like this for the rest of the week." He tapped his wand on my forehead.

I gasped as I felt my ears elongate and move higher up my head. They flopped over. My nose started widening and flattening. I grabbed it and noticed in shock that my hands and arms were a dull pink. My eyes hurt, like they were stretching.

Quickly I flicked my wand and Transfigured a Sickle from my pocket into a mirror and looked at my reflection. And almost screamed. My nose had been turned into a pig nose, my skin was pink, my brown eyes had grown larger and the irises had taken over the whites, and there were floppy porcine ears on the top of my head.

I whirled around to yell or do something equally stupid, but Voldemort had already left the room. Oh, well. At least I didn't get a tail.

At that moment, during dinner at Smeltings, Dudley Dursley sneezed, covering his best friend Piers Polkiss with snot and bits of partially chewed pastry.

"Gross!" Piers shouted, jumping back out of his chair, landing on the floor with a _thud_.

Dudley grunted.

_Well, darn,_ I thought to myself. _A whole week..._ I suddenly had an idea, and a grin crept onto my face. I checked the time and saw I still had five hours until curfew. Yes, curfew! You'd think once you joined a despicably evil organization, you'd be done with those wretched time limits. But _no_... I digress. Anyway, I still had five hours, so I rushed off to make preparations.

Two hours later, Voldemort walked into a back room and stopped in surprise. I'm sure it was quite a shock for him, but knowing me, he really should have expected it: the small pigs running the track, egged on by Death Eaters; Rowle in ump robes blowing his whistle; Avery, Jugson, and Macnair in the back of the room transfiguring various objects into more pigs; the banner hanging overhead, reading _Pig Races All Week!_; and me in the middle of it all, congratulating Dolohov, whose pink porcine had just won the previous race.

I sensed his eyes on me and looked over.

I saw his surprised face and it was so funny, I had to laugh. Then I hightailed it out of there.

3) Wake him up by singing Beach Boys songs in his ear.

After the pig incident, I spent the next two days avoiding Lord Voldemort and generally heckling the other Death Eaters.

But even annoying Lucius Malfoy had gotten boring.

I contemplated this as I sat on my bedroll in the Malfoy Manor, our new HQ, at about three in the morning. It had been exceedingly funny when all the Death Eaters argued about who had to share a tent with me since I didn't have one. Apparently they weren't too keen on me quite possibly destroying everything of value they possessed, especially their pride and dignity. The argument had ended when Voldemort stated in no uncertain terms that I would be staying in the Manor so Lucius could keep an eye on me. Everyone else snickered at Lucius' horrified expression and left with a bounce in their step.

Which brought me back to my present problem. It was hard to enjoy pestering people when you only had two targets: Lucius Malfoy and his son the Git (Voldemort and Narcissa Malfoy were off-limits because Voldy was still a bit steamed about my amazing pig races and Mrs. Malfoy made awesome chocolate chip cookies).

So I got out of my warm blanket and changed into Muggle clothing—jeans and a long-sleeved shirt—because when you're running for your life, robes just don't cut it.

I snuck into the hallway and glanced around, tiptoeing to a doorway farther down on the right. I opened the door a crack and peeked in. Lord Voldemort was sleeping soundly, every so often smiling demonically and saying something like, "Die, Potter!" Obsessed, much? He also had a really cute teddy bear. Who knew?

Ever so carefully, I stepped over to stand next to his bed. Making sure not to get too close and risk activating his protective wards (how sad that he doesn't trust us/me) I started humming the song of a Muggle band called the Beach Boys. After a while I started softly singing, loudly enough to make him shift and mutter a little, but not wake up. "Round, round, get around"—I suddenly yelled the last part—"I GET AROUND!"

I ducked as a Killing Curse flew over my head, and ran laughing to the other end of the mansion to find someplace to hide.

4) Knit him things. Really hideous things.

While the Dark Lord furiously tried to hunt me down on the second floor, I was in a far corner of the attic, rearranging boxes to create a hidey-hole. I manually stacked a few crates to form a small hole I could wriggle through and then started adding more to conceal the small corner the hole opened into. I had considered using _Wingardium Leviosa_ and other useful spells, but decided against it in case Voldemort could somehow detect the magic. Though I did add some special wards just in case. They would alert me and douse the intruder with treacle, distracting them long enough for me to make my escape.

Finally I was done, and I stepped back to view my creation. _Hmm, not bad at all,_ I thought. It looked like just another pile of boxes, except for the rather obvious hole. I looked through the crates on the other end of the attic for something I could use to cover the hole up.

_Ah, ha!_ I pulled out an old, knitted sweater. It was ratty, ugly, full of holes, and perfect for my purposes. I placed it in front of the opening and moved it around a little until my secret camp looked like an inconspicuous, harmless pile of junk.

I glanced back at the sweater. Its faded design reminded me of the time when Draco Malfoy sneered to his idiot friends how the Weasleys all got sweaters for Christmas instead of racing brooms and sweets, like _he_ got. Personally, though, I think he was just jealous. I rifled through the box the sweater came from and pulled out a few knitting patterns, a huge ball of various lengths of colored yarn, and some knitting needles.

"Yes!" I pumped my fist in the air with excitement. I pulled it all out and crawled into my hiding spot. Then I grabbed two needles and some green yarn and began my work.

I had learned to knit from one of my half-blood roommates in third year. We became obsessed with knitting, and soon began trying to knit everything possible. In almost no time at all, we had created a multitude of knitted knickknacks, and the other Slytherins had learned to disappear whenever they caught sight of us trying to give our handiwork away. So teachers started receiving strange lumpy packages in the mail. Dumbledore got a sweatband, a wand case, and a rasta cap (which he wore for the next week or so); McGonagall received a stuffed lion and a cat collar; Flitwick was sent a collapsible (very collapsible, considering it was made of yarn) step-stool and a fuzzy pillow; Sprout, a pot and a stuffed bunny; Trelawney, a hippie vest (which she promptly used to predict my bloody death, because of the presentation of colored yarn and the alignment of some planet, blah, blah, blah); and Lupin, a chew toy and a blanket decorated with bright yellow smiley-faces. The "Era of Hideously-Knit Objects," as it was called, was sadly brought to an end after a few short weeks, when we proudly presented Snape with a pink sleeping mask (we had used up the other colors and had yet to threaten sixth-years into getting us more) sleeping mask and matching bunny slippers during double Potions. The Gryffin-dorks of course found it all hilarious, especially when Snape docked about a hundred points from Slytherin, and for the rest of the year the Weasley twins would occasionally ask how comfortable his mask was, or whether they could borrow his slippers. Eventually those memories faded from everyone's mind, though once the Muggle Studies teacher brought yarn to Transfiguration class to assist in a spell we were learning, and neither she nor McGonagall would let me come within ten feet of it.

I finished at around lunchtime. I smile in satisfaction as I surveyed my masterpiece: a green sweater with a red "V" in the middle, with two red eyes underneath it, like the eyes had angry eyebrows. I knew Voldemort didn't actually have eyebrows, or any hair at all, but I didn't care; the design looked cool. Just for effect, I added around the "V" symbols of Harry Potter's triumphs over him: a lightning bolt, a small red jewel, a snake, a flaming goblet, a crystal prophecy orb, and a locket. Seriously, you'd think he'd hide the fact he had Horcruxes a little better. I had found three (his pet snake, Hufflepuff's cup, and some weird-looking crown thing) within the first couple of days.

I admired my work for a minute or two, then ran downstairs with it, looking for Lord Voldemort.

He wasn't on the second floor, but Draco Malfoy was. When Draco saw my almost-maniacal grin and the knitted bundle in my arms, he did what any relatively sane person would do (and indeed, what many _did_ do during my third year, when confronted with the same situation): he screamed (I was pleased to hear it was very girly) and ran away in terror.

I smirked and pounded down the stairs to the first floor, where I nearly ran into the Dark Lord himself. "My Lord!" I said excitedly. "I made you a sweater! Here, wear it, and I'll go make Mrs. Malfoy one!" I shoved the sweater at him and, before he could unfold it or curse me, ran back up the stairs to the attic. I hid, knitting random stuff as entertainment.

5) Give him kangaroo ears for a month.

It was nearly dark when I snuck down to grab some supper. I found a house-elf called Dill and ordered him to make me some pizza.

A few minutes later I was wandering the halls, munching on a slice of very delicious pineapple pizza. I finished the slice and began licking the grease off my fingers. Right as I was wishing for something to drink, I spotted something golden glinting on the floor just inside a room. A Galleon. I bent down to pick it up, then hesitated. All my Slytherin instincts were screaming, _trap!_

I discreetly flicked my eyes from side to side, my fingers hovering centimeters above the coin.

_There._ Behind the statue of some long-dead Malfoy that honestly no one cares about anymore (except perhaps a Malfoy) was a movement, and a small glimpse of white-blonde hair. _Draco Malfoy._ I reached down again as if to pocket the Galleon, and he shifted again. That was all I needed.

I quickly straightened up and yelled, "_Macropus aures!_" A bright orange beam of light flashed from the tip of my wand to where he was. Unfortunately I was off by millimeters, and the spell glanced off the wall behind him... and bounced back. It was beyond me why anyone would want to build the inside of their home with spell deflectors in the walls, but apparently the Malfoys did. So the spell kept bouncing around, and we ducked every time it came close.

Eventually, I had enough. I shot off at least a dozen more _Macropus aures_'s, not caring if a few hit me. Having kangaroo ears for a month would actually be kind of fun, especially if I knew the countercharm, and nobody else did. I had found this particular spell when I was flipping through my History of Magic book for new stuff to try. (The great thing about the book is it provides you with all sorts of neat hexes, and since nobody else besides Granger ever reads it, you're practically the only one who knows the spells and counterspells.)

I was pleased to see that Malfoy got hit, and his ears grew long, tall, tan, and fuzzy. He looked up at them in horror.

We were so absorbed in Draco's new appendages (him trying to figure out how to get rid of them, and me laughing at how the ears made his hair look like a haystack) that we failed to notice the last few spells still bouncing around.

Voldemort chose this moment to glide in the door. "Malfoy and Ranuncu—" he began with a positively evil expression. That was as far as he got before the remaining _Macropus aures_'s hit him.

He looked up at his ears, no doubt feeling them grow and stretch into a new shape. His voice turned deadly soft, pleasant, but with an edge that told me he was just seconds away from _Avada_-ing me. "Ranunculus. What are these?"

"Oh, um, they're, um, kangaroo ears, my Lord," I said, my voice shaking. "Here." I whispered the counterspell and removed his marsupial protuberances. Turning quickly I tried to run out the door.

"_Crucio!_"

I fell down and screamed in pain. The agony I felt was indescribable, but best described like fire was running through my veins while my body was trying to rip itself apart. After what seemed days, the pain finally stopped. I curled into a ball on the floor, whimpering.

"Do not presume to do anything like that again," Lord Voldemort's voice hissed. I heard the whisper of his robes as he left the room.

I shakily sat up. The room was empty. Draco had apparently left while I was being _Crucio_ed, probably to throw up. He never had much of a strong stomach when it came to the Dark. Wimp.

A few minutes passed, and I mustered my strength to get up. Swaying a little, I staggered over to the statue Malfoy had hidden behind. "Bloody Malfoy," I hissed, not entirely sure which one I meant: the elder, the younger, or the statue. Probably all three. My head spun. Dazedly I remembered a time when I had broken a few ribs fighting a few idiots in Gryffindor. They had insulted my family and my House, so I had taken it upon myself to defend the honor of Slytherin and the Ranunculus line. I recalled with satisfaction that even though I had spent three days in the Hospital Wing, the students had spent a little over a week there. The pain had made me loopy, like now. _Peanut butter_, I thought. _Peanut butter, and jam, and cookies._

The door creaked open, interrupting my musings. Rowle looked in. "Our Lord has requested everyone's presence in the dining hall for planning."

I sighed and followed him dizzily, every once in a while poking the portraits on their noses as we passed.

**Review, please!** **Writings, ramblings, questions, flames all appreciated! ...and if anyone has any dark chocolate, that would be not amiss...**


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